Fall of Giants

Walter looked at his watch. It was ten minutes to eleven-in Berlin, just short of the noon deadline.

Lichnowsky said into the phone: “Russian mobilization has been confirmed by a reliable source here.”

He listened for a few moments. The room went quiet. No one moved. “Yes,” Lichnowsky said at last. “I understand. Very well.”

He hung up with a click that sounded like a thunderclap. “The chancellor has decided,” he said; and then he repeated the words Walter had been dreading. “Zustand drohender Kriegsgefahr. Prepare for imminent war.”

CHAPTER TEN – August 1-3, 1914

Maud was frantic with worry. On Saturday morning she sat in the breakfast room at the Mayfair house, eating nothing. The summer sun shone in through the tall windows. The decor was supposed to be restful-Persian rugs, eau-de-Nil paintwork, mid-blue curtains-but nothing could calm her. War was coming and no one seemed able to stop it: not the kaiser, not the tsar, not Sir Edward Grey.

Bea came in, wearing a filmy summer dress and a lace shawl. Grout, the butler, poured her coffee with gloved hands, and she took a peach from a bowl.

Maud looked at the newspaper but was unable to read beyond the headlines. She was too anxious to concentrate. She tossed the newspaper aside. Grout picked it up and folded it neatly. “Don’t you worry, my lady,” he said. “We’ll give the Germans a bashing if we have to.”

She glared at him but said nothing. It was foolish to argue with servants-they always ended up agreeing out of deference.

Aunt Herm tactfully got rid of him. “I’m sure you’re right, Grout,” she said. “Bring some more hot rolls, would you?”

Fitz came in. He asked Bea how she was feeling, and she shrugged. Maud sensed that something in their relationship had changed, but she was too distracted to think about that. She immediately asked Fitz: “What happened last night?” She knew he had been in conference with leading Conservatives at a country house called Wargrave.

“F. E. arrived with a message from Winston.” F. E. Smith, a Conservative M.P., was close friends with the Liberal Winston Churchill. “He proposed a Liberal-Conservative coalition government.”

Maud was shocked. She usually knew what was happening in Liberal circles, but Prime Minister Asquith had kept this secret. “That’s outrageous!” she said. “It makes war more likely.”

With irritating calmness, Fitz took some sausages from the hot buffet on the sideboard. “The left wing of the Liberal Party are little better than pacifists. I imagine that Asquith is afraid they will attempt to tie his hands. But he doesn’t have enough support in his own party to overrule them. Who can he turn to for help? Only the Conservatives. Hence the proposal of a coalition.”

That was what Maud feared. “What did Bonar Law say to the offer?” Andrew Bonar Law was the Conservative leader.

“He turned it down.”

“Thank God.”

“And I supported him.”

“Why? Don’t you want Bonar Law to have a seat in the government?”

“I’m hoping for more. If Asquith wants war, and Lloyd George leads a left-wing rebellion, the Liberals could be too divided to rule. Then what happens? We Conservatives have to take over-and Bonar Law becomes prime minister.”

Furiously, Maud said: “You see how everything seems to conspire towards war? Asquith wants a coalition with the Conservatives because they are more aggressive. If Lloyd George leads a rebellion against Asquith, the Conservatives will take over anyway. Everyone is jockeying for position instead of struggling for peace!”

“What about you?” Fitz said. “Did you go to Halkyn House last night?” The home of the Earl of Beauchamp was the headquarters of the peace faction.

Maud brightened. There was a ray of hope. “Asquith has called a cabinet meeting this morning.” This was unusual on a Saturday. “Morley and Burns want a declaration that Britain will in no circumstance fight Germany.”

Fitz shook his head. “They can’t prejudge the issue like that. Grey would resign.”

“Grey is always threatening to resign, but never does.”

“Still, you can’t risk a split in the cabinet now, with my lot waiting in the wings, panting to take over.”

Maud knew Fitz was right. She could have screamed with frustration.

Bea dropped her knife and made a strange noise.

Fitz said: “Are you all right, my dear?”

She stood up, holding her stomach. Her face was pale. “Excuse me,” she said, and she rushed out of the room.

Maud stood up, concerned. “I’d better go to her.”

“I’ll go,” said Fitz, surprising her. “You finish your breakfast.”

Maud’s curiosity would not let her leave it at that. As Fitz went to the door she said: “Is Bea suffering from morning sickness?”

Fitz paused in the doorway. “Don’t tell anyone,” he said.

“Congratulations. I’m very happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

“But the child… ” Maud’s voice caught in her throat.

“Oh!” said Aunt Herm, cottoning on. “How lovely!”

Maud went on with an effort. “Will the child be born into a world at war?”

“Oh, dear me,” said Aunt Herm. “I didn’t think of that.”